


sins i sinned

by somewhatexcited



Category: Polygon/McElroy Vlogs & Podcasts RPF
Genre: Alternate Universe - Demons, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-05-28
Updated: 2018-05-28
Packaged: 2019-05-14 21:08:43
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,158
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14777267
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/somewhatexcited/pseuds/somewhatexcited
Summary: Pat is too curious for his own good and Brian... Well, Brian is a demon.





	sins i sinned

**Author's Note:**

> hi, first of all, this is based on the au and fics by whitew0rms - you should check out their [i will make you mine](https://archiveofourown.org/series/1009443) series, bc otherwise this won't make much sense (unless you r here for the explicit tag then go and read their work anyway, bc it's good)  
> second of all, i am sorry. if you are portrayed in this, or if you know anyone portrayed in this irl pls walk away and forget about it. i will combust into flames if you don't - this work is locked for a reason.
> 
> try to enjoy i guess, i haven't written anything in a thousand years.

Pat is not the same person he was a week ago. His brain still screams for him to run every time he sees Brian, every time he's nearby, every time his hot fingertips brush Pat's arms, every time he feels Brian's heavy gaze on himself. It's unnerving really, how he can't focus now, simply because this otherworldly creature, beautiful, beautiful Brian is standing right before his very eyes in the break room, talking to him, smiling a soft, gentle smile and talking about something Pat's lost track of about a minute ago and has been nodding mindlessly ever since.

“So, we can just do something less disgusting for the stream. What do you say?” an answer is expected of him, so Pat nods once again, trying to look somewhat convincing. The smile drops from Brian's face, he sighs as if disappointed. “Listen. I know you haven't been listening, Pat...” he sounds tired and before Pat can even start feeling guilty a wave of fear hits him as he looks at no-longer-smiling face.

It's confusing, when he considers what Brian looks like – the soft shape of his face, gentle, wide eyes, all smiles and sunshine. This _boy_ has no right to make him fear for his life. And yet.

Maybe Pat is just going mad.

Maybe last week didn't happen at all, maybe he just came back to his apartment after work, went to sleep and had a very eventful and vivid dream about sucking off his colleague who was actually a demon and may or may not have been after his soul.

Well, that actually made him sound like a madman. Also a complete creep. At least letting a demon fuck your mouth when both of you are consenting – Pat can only hope – adults is slightly better than having explicit wet dreams about someone you work with and who would probably rather not be sexualized by an older co-worker.

Brian clears his throat breaking Pat's train of thought and suddenly he can feel that dread pooling in the pit of his stomach again.

“You were saying...?” he tries, but coherent thoughts are hard when all you want to do is run. Or beg.

“I said I know you're not paying attention, Patrick,” Brian let's out a small laugh and it's a simple sentence, anyone could say that. From the side it probably looks like two friends just having a regular everyday conversation and Pat wishes he could understand why he feels so paralyzed and powerless. The sound of his full name rings in his ears, making him shiver.

“Do you _really_ know...?” Pat asks in a serious tone, against his better judgement.

“Well, hard not to notice, when you've been spacing out all day,” he laughs and Pat is not sure if what he said is true or if he simply kept his demonic, mind-reading powers to himself to not blow his cover at work.

As Pat has found out last week, Brian's cover was not so hard to blow. Yeah, _blow_. Pat was good at that. He wondered if that's why he wasn't burnt to a crisp then and there in his apartment, but, honestly, who could tell if giving head was enough to save your soul from being devoured by a twinky demon. If that's what twinky demons did, that is. The two of them didn't really have the chance to talk about that whole demon thing afterwards. Brian just stroked his hair with too-warm fingers, made himself somewhat more decent and, with Pat still on his knees on the floor, he left, saying something along the lines of “Thanks and, by the way, don't tell anyone I'm a demon, would ya?”. He used the door instead of vanishing in a puff of black smoke or something equally theatrical and flashy. Pat was surprised. Brian had that dramatic, exaggerated quality about him ~~.~~

“Hey, Brian...” Pat starts, interrupting something Brian's been saying, because he's not too good with reasonable life choices and whatever they've been talking about seemed like small talk, sole purpose of which was avoiding the real conversation anyway. And the real conversation here being: yes, Brian is actually a demon, yes, Pat spilled holy water on him to expose his hellish form, and yes, he definitely sucked Brian's dick and he might have accidentally signed a contract on his soul thanks to that. Pat wasn't really sure about the last one, but why not stress more over your terrible past decisions.

Brian looks at him with interest, still smiling kindly. Pat's knees go a bit weaker just then.

“Do you wanna hang out in the evening...?” Pat is proud his voice isn't shaking. It's nice to pretend for a bit he isn't a nervous wreck even though Brian probably notices anyway. “I'm just kinda stressed out recently, I think it's all the work...” he lies smoothly, not even stumbling over his words. He's doing great. He knows Brian knows, but they might as well try and pretend they're having a civil, non-stressful, non-life-threatening conversation at their beloved workplace.

“Sure,” Brian replies with ease. “Are we getting drinks or...?”

“Was thinking takeout and games at mine. My flatmate is out of town for a few days...”

They can't talk about Brian literally being a spawn of hell in the middle of a busy bar. Even if his chances of actually surviving a serious talk with Brian when they're alone in his apartment, with no witnesses except for his dipshit son of a cat, he's too curious for his own good and smart decisions are not the greatest strength of his.

“Oh...” Brian looks surprised for a second but then his face changes somehow, suddenly he looks triumphant, yet Pat can't even explain what exactly changed in his features. “That works too,” comes the reply from smiling Brian. He feels a shiver run down his spine and anxiety twisting his stomach into knots.

 

*

 

They leave together – the last ones in the office even when usually it's Allegra who stays behind – and take the subway to Pat's. He feels his fate approaching gravely yet quickly, because with Brian around, the world seems to be mercilessly pushing him into the welcoming open arms of death. Or so Pat tell himself. At the back of his head there is a small voice, painfully aware that really, it's himself who invites death into his own home.

They fall into something resembling an easy chatter and Pat thanks the universe for Brian being so talkative. He's not sure he'd be able to survive that anxiety-inducing ride otherwise. They agree on ordering pizza even though thinking of eating anything at all makes Pat feel nauseous.

 

*

 

In the end they don't even order. Brian starts playing with Charlie as soon as they take their shoes off and Pat can't decide if his cat not running away means he's really so dumb or just that cats are also creatures of hell. Which leads him to thinking about hell in general and Brian's demonic origin and all the question start filling his brain like they did for the past week. He doesn't even hear the words leaving his mouth.

“Brian, did I sign my soul away to you...?” In hindsight it's probably not the most diplomatic of ways to ask if the blowjob you gave was good enough to doom you.

“Excuse me...?” Brian is surprised, not really mad, but his eyes get wider. He doesn't stop stroking Charlie's soft fur. He still doesn't blink. It's unnerving. And honestly, Pat' is just one reckless guy wanting answers, so he pushes further, “I mean I wanted to know why are you even here and what you do and how is it even possible? Because if you're just... I don't know... Toying with me before you eventually kill me, I might at least learn some things... about you...” Pat's voice is higher than usual and Brian looks even more surprised than before. “But first...” he hesitates for a second. “Could you tell me if my soul is already in hell, bc I-... we-...” he doesn't finish and the room is silent save for loud purring.

“Wow,” Brian says finally and looks both amused and taken aback. “You've got it bad, huh?”

Pat just stares at him, quiet. “And here I thought you were just thirsty and wanted to get on your knees again,” he smiles and Pat chokes on nothing. “But in that case...” he stands up holding the cat that's surprisingly relaxed unlike any other time there are strangers in the apartment. “Let's chat.”

He opens the door to the bedroom and sits down, Charlie still in his lap. He pats the space next to himself for Pat to sit. Pat obliges.

“So,” Brian says looking into the other's eyes intensely. He's good at this game, likes intimidating, enjoys the control and making people frustrated. He guesses it comes with the territory – being a demon and all. But what Pat doesn't know yet is that he doesn't even have all the answers himself.

“So,” Pat echoes and it seems a reenactment of their meeting last week.

“You never speak first, huh?” Brian smirks a little, predatory for a good measure, to make Pat all squirmy and bothered. Then he sighs heavily, relaxes a bit. “It doesn't work like that, Patrick,” he says eventually and gets a curious stare in return, urging him to elaborate. “To sign your soul away to a demon.... It's a lot of work. There is a lot to gain in return too. It's not an easy deal, we don't do this too often.” He seems distant and ethereal in that fleeting moment and when Pat looks at his eyes they seem to be shining with millions of exploding stars, entire galaxies of life. “I've never made such a deal. Not sure if I want to...” He turns to face him now and the moment is gone. “As for the rest of your questions... I... Can't answer all of them. That has its price, Patrick, and I'm not too sure you want to pay it, now that you know I won't drag you to the depths of hell or whatever you though would happen,” a smile blooms on his face.

Pat keeps silent, staring at Brian. The moment stretches, neither of them saying anything. It becomes tense, the atmosphere is all wrong, the air gets heavier and Pat cannot bring himself to say anything, he doesn't even have a good reply. What do you say in such a situation? He's not equipped to deal with demons, there is not a guide for that.

A few heartbeats later Brian stands up, Pat still staring at his beautiful from. There is nothing more for him to do here. He seems somewhat upset in his otherworldly grace, doesn't look back at Pat and purposefully walks towards the door, determined to leave.

“Brian,” Pat finally manages and Brian turns, something akin to surprise visible in his soft features. Pat's not sure but it seems to be there for a flashing second, makes Pat's stomach twist and warmth spread in his chest. He cannot name the feeling yet, but since the day Brian walked in through Polygon's door – in a pastel shirt with a badly tied tie, because he didn't know yet that they don't really insist on following a dress code, smiling awkwardly and trying to appear taller and more confident than he was in reality – he has been making Pat feel all sorts of feeling he still cannot comprehend. He thinks he might find out what they are soon though. Because besides the fear, that at this point Pat is slowly getting used to, he can also feel a wide array of other things – more fluid, ephemeral, making him unable to put his thoughts together.

“We didn't even order that pizza yet, where are you going?” says Pat smiling, a bit unsure, but hopeful, slightly giddy.

Brian smiles back and Pat feels like he's falling.

 

*

 

They do order pizza and even if the atmosphere is still a little tense, they make it work. Pat puts some random TV show on to make moments of silence between them more bearable. There is electricity in the air, tickling Pat's skin, distracting him and he feels better when a soft mindless chatter from the TV fills the space.

He doesn't even realize what he's doing when he offers Brian he could stay the night. The other kindly accepts.

 

*

 

Brian looks breathtaking in a borrowed tshirt, at least two sizes too big for his frail frame, stepping out of the bathroom, light catching on droplets of water slowly sliding down his neck towards the collarbones peeking from under the hem. Pat tries to ignore a strong pull towards him, the urge to caress those pale legs, pepper them with kisses and leave hickeys as Brian tells him he did good. Tries not to stare too hard, but fails. If Brian notices – and he probably does – he doesn't mention it. Pat excuses himself to go shower as well and hopes Brian won't spot the soft blush he can feel on his face and neck as blood rushes a bit more quickly in his entire body.

 

*

 

They both end up sprawled on Pat's bed, smelling of Pat's strawberry shower gel and weird minty toothpaste. He thought the shower would make him calmer, and it did, for a short while, until he left the bathroom and saw Brian again with his delicate, thin legs stretched across the bed and disheveled hair sticking out in weird places around his head like a halo, busy with the book he's picked up last week. Not demonic at all.

Pat definitely stares. He stares at the soft planes of Brian's body, his delicate face, bright eyes and seemingly fragile, lithe limbs. He's beautiful and even if Pat can feel the familiar fear creeping up his neck, urging him to pull away, to stay away, he also feels the overwhelming need to be good for Brian and maybe let him squeeze a hand around his throat as he fucks him. He throws himself on the bed next to his _colleague from work_ and takes a deep breath.

The sound from the TV can still be heard, a soft distracting buzz. Pat's throat is a little dry, he's confused with mixed signals he feels all at once and he just wonders if it's gonna be like this for the rest of his life and if they'll eventually fire him from work because he'll never be able to focus again with this pretty, hellish creature around.

Pat might not know this yet, but Brian cannot read his mind. Or anyone else's for that matter. He is good at reading people though – that's sort of his thing, his job, you could say. He can see Pat's face thoughts are racing, body all hot and mind unfocused, seemingly absent.

So he leans in closer, hand firm on Pat's thigh. And Pat looks at him, bewildered, but a heartbeat later he's leaning in as well, eyes shifting between Brian's eyes and his velvety lips.

They kiss, softly, both a bit hesitant at first.

Pat might have had Brian's dick in his throat but it's the first time he's been kissed by this beautiful being from hell, the first time in a long long time he's been kissed at all really, the first time in a long while he's felt like he's falling again, like this isn't going to be another quick fuck with no strings attached. He deepens the kiss and feels Brian fist a hand in his hair. He tugs on it and Pat melts to the sound of all the alarms in his head going off, telling him that he's gotten too close, yet not close enough, that he has to pull away and run for this life, yet he should get so much closer, and beg Brian to touch every inch of his body, run his burning fingertips all over his arms, thighs, neck and bring him in impossibly close.

Brian pulls away to let them both catch their breaths and Pat whines, because there is little regard for dignity left in his body and too many conflicting feelings on his mind.

“What do you want, Pat?” Brian asks quietly and Pat can't even reply, caught off guard.

“I-” he stops there, unsure. What does he want really.

“Tell me, Patrick,” Brian demands and there is something about being called his full name that makes his stomach drop. He feels breathless for reasons other than simply being in the middle of a great makeout session with a hot twinky demon.

In for a penny, in for a pound, huh?

“F-Fuck me,” he stutters a bit, unsure, blush spreading from his face to his neck embarrassingly quickly. He's not some virgin teen, he's said that before, but it never felt like this, it never felt like baring his soul, it never felt significant.

Brian smirks, and Pat's face feels even hotter, when Brian pushes him lightly to lay on his back and starts kissing his neck, biting just hard enough to leave red marks. Pat moans, probably a bit too loud to be decent, but he's heard much worse through the very walls of this apartment – his neighbors don't have any right to complain about that. He gives in to the urge to touch Brian's legs and digs his fingers into the soft, pale flesh of his thigh as Brian nibs at his collarbone, one hand under the tshirt, playing with a nipple, the other palming Pat's dick through dark boxers. He's hard already, mix of adrenaline and arousal making him lightheaded and dizzy too quickly. It's too good to be true, seems unreal and Pat whines shamelessly when Brian pulls away and just looks at him, unblinking eyes roaming his body. It's embarrassing, makes him want to curl onto himself and not let Brian see him like this – flushed mess with blown pupils, hard dick staining his boxers with precum. And when he is just about to say something Brian starts stroking his aching cock again, feather-like touches not enough to give him any relief. Pat whines _again_.

“Want me to finger you open, or do you wanna do it yourself?” He registers Brian's voice through a hazy cloud of raw need. He focuses on Brian, every line of his body seemingly buzzing, fluttering, melting into the background just slightly, delusive enough for Pat's fight-or-flight instincts to kick in. He pushes them deep down, shuts the voice telling him to move away. He feels everything at once and they've only just started.

“Please, Brian... You...” mercifully, Brian shushes him then, rubs circles onto his thigh, kisses him sweetly.

“I assume you do have lube somewhere in here...?” he asks when they pull away briefly and Pat just points at one of the dark boxes near his bed, too drunk on Brian's smell, touch, taste for coherent sentences.

And when Brian returns to him with a half-used bottle of lube and a wicked smile, he doesn't even have the strength to deny any sort of accusations about the contents of his box.

“And here I thought you were ridiculously vanilla,” Brian keeps smiling, cheeky and young and ridiculous, just so _Brian_ and he's popping the cap off the bottle already.

“Mhmm,” Pat replies half-heartedly, “You can't read my mind... I guess...” he murmurs, overheated and overwhelmed.

“You thought I could...?” Brian smiles, covering his fingers in lube.

“Maybe...” Pat giggles in reply – high-pitched and silly. Brian looks at him with something akin to adoration in his eyes and he feels warmth spreading in his chest.

Brian fingers him good after that – he's not _nice_ , goes a bit too fast and a bit too rough, but Pat loves it, loves every perfect second of it, moans loudly, too loud for a small New York apartment with neighbors and thin walls. It still feels too good to be true, fingers a bit too skilled, pushing in all the right places, just how he likes, bringing him close to the edge embarrassingly quickly.

Brian stills when Pat is about to orgasm. He wants to cry at a loss, tries bucking his hips into the air but finds no friction to give him release.

“Brian, please...” he half-whispers, half-moans, begs for Brian to move his hand. And Brian just looks him down, wrecked and desperate, disheveled in the sheets of his own bed.

“Not too fast, _baby_ ,” Pat thinks he could come just from Brian calling him pet names, but it's not enough now, he still needs more. “Want me to fuck you properly? Or do you wanna come just from my fingers?” he feels Brian wriggle the digits just a bit to prove his point and Pat's eyes get glassy from how much he needs to come. He tries to move, fuck himself on Brian's fingers, but the other just holds his hips in place, hold stronger than Pat expected.

It soon becomes clear that Brian won't do anything until he gets an answer, so Pat takes one shaky breath and tries his best to make his answer coherent, “Fuck- I- Please, Brian- F-fuck me- Not just fingers- I-” he takes another shaky breath, looks at Brian pleadingly. “I w-want you inside- Fuck- Please...”

Brian kisses him again, soft and sweet and Pat gets off on the striking contrast between how delicate, how measured Brian's kisses are and how stern he is, how he makes Pat listen and obey. Pat gladly obliges, he cannot imagine how could he not.

He feels empty and wrong when Brian's fingers are no longer inside him, whines to make Brian hurry, the need to be close, to be so much closer overwhelming and suffocating. He watches Brian stroke his already hard dick and lube it up and it's much more erotic than Pat imagined it would be. And he _definitely_ did imagine it, imagined Brian wrecking him and then putting him back together, though he would never admit it out loud.

Brian is still wearing the oversized tshirt, boxers abandoned, his milky skin looking soft and plush. Pat cannot comprehend what he's seeing, the beauty of this _boy_ , his radiance, hair a mess of light locks, eyes sharp and focused entirely on Pat. He's breathtaking and by now Pat's mostly managed to stifle the voice at the back of his head urging him to abandon this, to move away and hide somewhere safe. Pat feels like now the only safe place is in Brian's arms.

When he's is finally inside him, the stretch feels foreign, but so good he feels like he might come just from the feeling of being full. By some miracle he doesn't, not yet. And when Brian starts fucking him in the earnest, Pat can only moan louder, uncaring of his neighbors hearing his broken cries of “fuck”, “please” and “harder” mixed with Brian's name.

He comes quickly, being on the edge for a while then, lets Brian abuse his overstimulated body even when every touch feels sharp and hot. He comes inside just when Pat is about to cry and ask him to stop, when it becomes almost too much, just when it's short of actually painful.

They lay on the bed for a while after that, close, sated and out of breath.

“You okay, Pat?” Brian asks, sounding more like his everyday self, less controlling and less demanding, with an edge of awkwardness in his voice.

“Mhm,” he replies simply, bc he's not sure if he's able to form a sentence just yet. He wants to curl into a ball and sleep for the next day with Brian in his bed.

“You up for a quick shower...?” he asks, and Pat is so close to declining, but then has a flashback to the times he woke up covered in dried cum and sweat and thinks better of it.

“Mhmm, sure...” he slurs the words a bit, too exhausted to care, not actually making an attempt to move anywhere away from Brian's warm body. “You'll stay the night, right...?” he adds as an afterthought, his voice smaller and more insecure than he wanted. He curses himself internally for being this weak and vulnerable around Brian, for letting himself be stripped of strength and confidence he might have.

“Only if you want me to,” Brian too sounds unsure, almost shy.

“Yeah, I'd like that, Brian,” Pat says, smiling, and a bit more confident knowing that not only he is a stressed out mess, and that, at the end of the day, demon or not, Brian is still his awkward self, no different from the day he entered through the door to Polygon offices for the first time.

Pat just feels Brian grabbing his hand, fingers still a touch too warm, and dragging him to a shower.

Pat thinks he's fallen harder than ever before.

 

 

**Author's Note:**

> this bullshit took me weeks to complete bc i am a mess and for some reason it has now 4k words, i am sorry. i was tempted to make it lapslock, but i am probably the only person who actually enjoys it.  
> also im not a native english speaker and this did not go through any beta bc im ashamed so just drop me a comment if you see any mistakes to fix.
> 
> i didn't have a fun title idea so that's just what my file was called. i know it sucks major ass.
> 
> it's probably not good, but if i keep making changes to this fic instead of doing my work i will fail uni.


End file.
